


Heartbeat

by tirsynni



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 20:46:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3461459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tirsynni/pseuds/tirsynni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Standing sentinel over Jim Kirk's comatose body, Nyota Uhura determined none of them would be alone again. Not if she had anything to say about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heartbeat

Without a word, it became a Thing: James Kirk was never to be left alone.

Even after his transfer from Sickbay to a hospital in San Francisco, Captain Kirk (her captain, Jim, so much meaning in a handful of words) remained still and silent on his biobed. His body waged a war with itself which McCoy helped fight anti-rejection drug after anti-rejection drug. That left him defenseless to any external threat, whether physical, political, or social.

After hours of dealing with the political threats, Nyota Uhura still felt useless standing beside Jim’s biobed, the screens before her a terrifying reminder that her captain was still in danger.

“The biobed monitors his vital signs,” Spock noted behind her. “There is no need to manually check the captain’s pulse.”

Nyota smiled and made no move to remove her fingers from Jim’s wrist. It would be easy to take offense at Spock’s words, except she was a linguistics expert for a reason. She also knew that Spock did the same thing when he was alone on his shift, holding Jim’s wrist whether it was too cold or frighteningly feverish. Logic meant little in the face of such primal fear.

“Doctor McCoy told me that he is responding positively to the latest treatment,” she said instead. No allergic reactions, at least. Whenever McCoy wasn’t monitoring his food before, either she or Spock – both, if they could manage it – would join Jim during meals to make sure he didn’t carelessly trigger an old allergy or discover a new one. They had their own little table in the mess, Jim safe in his corner with Nyota and Spock on each side. Jim and Nyota occasionally sang and would bully Spock away from his work and would quietly enjoy themselves.

Thinking more on it, Nyota felt incredibly slow.

Spock’s fingers brushed hers in a fleeting kiss. “Lieutenant Giotto is outside, as is Lieutenant Duncan.”

In the morning, other members from the Enterprise’s security would replace them. How they worked out their informal shifts, Nyota had no clue. It was possibly similar to how she knew Hikaru Sulu would be waiting to replace her and Spock.

“A lot of people are waiting for you, Jim. You’re not alone.”

If everything went well, McCoy estimated another three weeks of this coma, of closed blue eyes and limp hands. Nyota raised one hand to her lips now for a tender kiss. As she lowered it to the bed, Spock reached out, touching still fingers with his own.

“He was alone,” Spock said. “Behind the barrier.”

Really, they had all been alone in engineering, lost in a way Nyota thought Spock could only now comprehend. She leaned slightly against him as they watched Jim breathe.

“None of us are alone,” Nyota said, not yet a truth but something she needed to force into existence. For all of Jim’s reputation, a part of him remained a feral cat, a breath away from fangs and claws. Spock had held himself apart since his mother’s death, a barrier she had been slowly smashing with Jim’s help.

Spock’s fingers curled around hers so they both touched Jim’s wrist, both comforted by the thump against their fingertips, weak and slow as it was. “Your solution is…highly unorthodox.”

Nyota smiled. A simple statement, not an argument. All about phrasing. “Yes, but hopefully solid.”

Solidity, something their captain needed. A foundation to help him remembered that if he did something that crazy again, he would be wreaking his own damage on the people he wanted to protect. Nyota had _seen_ Jim’s face as he was dying, scared but accepting, oblivious to how he was tearing them apart. Only in his last minutes did Nyota realize how little she knew the man.

Something she would remedy.

Nyota leaned a little more of her weight against Spock. “Not technically against regulations. If there are any concerns, Admiral Archer has already agreed to provide assistance.”

Spock gently squeezed Nyota’s fingers, brushing more of Jim’s skin as he did so. “The captain…Jim may disagree.”

In the dim light, Jim Kirk looked frail: young and breakable. The shadows caught on old scars, worn into the skin before McCoy was there to wrestle them into submission.

She would always remember the sound of when his heart had begun tentatively beating on its own again.

“Leave that to me,” she said. Convince him it as for Spock’s own good. Point out his ability to draw Spock out of his defensive shell. Give him someone to protect so he wouldn’t realize they were protecting him.

Nyota knew her boys in that sense, at least.

For hours they didn’t speak again, Nyota and Spock silent sentinels inside the room, Giotto and Duncan outside. If anyone wanted to harm their captain, they had best be prepared to face an army.

Because they weren’t alone. Not anymore.


End file.
